We Never Change
by screaming-poetically
Summary: There was no finer respite for Lucy than to spend time with Mr. Tumnus. LucyTumnus.


**Title:** We Never Change  
**Summary:** There was no finer respite for Lucy than to spend time with Mr. Tumnus. LucyTumnus.  
**Rating:** T  
**Disclaimer:** The names of all characters contained herein are the property of CS Lewis. No infringements of these copyrights are intended, and are used here without permission.  
**Author's Note:** N/A

**We Never Change**

It was Peter who thought he had first discovered the truth of Mr. Tumnus' feelings for Lucy, while Edmund maintained his position of having seen Tumnus fretting one day about _what_ would Lucy think of him, no present on her birthday. Susan, however, was the only one who was silent on the matter, even when the two brothers asked her opinion. It wasn't really her business to discuss, of course; besides, it simply_ wouldn't do_ to tell good Peter and Edmund that she had known a long while ago about Tumnus and Lucy – she had, after all, heard from Lucy herself.

As a Queen of Narnia, Lucy Pevensie had her choice of confidantes, but she took her favorites in her sister Susan and the faun Tumnus. For a point of fact, it was only some time ago that she told Susan of her love for Tumnus, and his reciprocation – although it was quite unofficial, Lucy rather hoped he would tell her he wished for a union of sorts. (Truth be told, Tumnus hadn't exactly _told_ her that he loved her; Lucy merely guessed correctly, along with scarcely obscured hints from Oreius.)

"I do hope, Mr. Tumnus that you do not mean to keep me waiting for-ever," she said to him one day.

It was one of those days in which she would spend the whole if it with her dearest friend, loitering about the Lanternwaste or taking refuge in the faun's wonderful home. There was no finer respite for Lucy than to spend time with Mr. Tumnus.

As he attended to his library, he pretended that he did not know what she meant, because what he hoped she meant was a far cry from certainty. She was a Queen of Narnia, and he a common faun.

"Certainly not, Queen Lucy. The tea shall be ready momentarily."

She turned to him and smiled, such a rare smile as she only spared for him; this smile is what Peter had noticed, chief among other things in their relationship. He had even endeavored to eavesdrop on them one evening, even though when Peter told Susan she thought him absolutely wicked.

"Whenever shall you start calling me plain old Lucy again, as you ought? We are such good friends after all."

_Yes,_ thought Mr. Tumnus, _friends._ There was no finer friend than Lucy Pevensie, and as such he was honored to call her his; but even so, he couldn't help but wish for more; hadn't he _always_ wished for more?

"Lucy," he said at length, "would you like me to break out the sardines?"

She laughed then, a gay laugh that truly brought even the sun to shame for want of brightness. She clapped her hands smartly and stood, moving closer to Mr. Tumnus.

"Mr. Tumnus," she said gaily, "we never change, do we? Will it always be us, drinking tea near your warm fireplace with no want for friendship and love, eating toast and sardines?"

Lucy embraced her friend then, and said, "Oh, how I love you, dearest faun!"

Mr. Tumnus, for want of composure, merely stammered his equal affection for her as a _friend_, while he would have much liked to do otherwise. It was not that he wished to wound Lucy, no; he could never do that, not willingly at the very least. It was more that he simply thought himself not worthy enough of her, even though he had known her for many years, and thought with fair enough confidence that he sometimes knew he better even than Edmund, Peter, or Susan.

The youngest Pevensie child pulled back slightly and looked at her friend, and whereupon seeing the evident distress written on his face she pulled out of his embrace entirely.

"Oh, dear Mr. Tumnus!" she cried. "Will you never love me enough to tell me that you feel so? Certainly I do love _you_, so I hope you may pluck up enough courage someday to say that you love _me_."

This was not how he expected things to turn out at all, no, not at all. He had wanted things to go very differently – perhaps he would declare himself by Cair Paravel one day, down by the water as they walked together. Or maybe, as Christmas drew ever closer, he would admit beneath the snow-laden trees that he had loved every fiber of her being since she came to Narnia. But those plans were scrap now, and Tumnus had every intention of making the best of the situation.

He very nearly stumbled over what to call her, although he knew her desire that he calls her Lucy. "Queen Lucy"? That simply wouldn't do; she didn't like it. "My lady"? Far too formal for this occasion, he thought. "Dear friend"? No, absolutely not, as he wished to tell her that he wanted her as _more than_ a friend. "Lucy"? Yes, that would have to do, until he could find more pleasant epithets to call her.

He fretted over the sardine can for a moment before discarding it completely; Tumnus turned to Lucy, his face set with a new sort of determination she had never seen before. She hoped this would bode well, and to be sure, it most certainly did.

"Lucy," he began, "I will keep you in suspense no longer. For the longest time – ever since you came to Narnia, as a point of fact – I have loved you. You looked so delightful, standing by the lamp-post, covered in tiny flakes of snow…"

Hours later, they sat together by the fire; each contented with what had come to pass. Lucy had been completely in the right when she believed Mr. Tumnus in love with her, and had done well in coming to him rather hastily with her own feelings. It was not in her way to wait, or to stay by the wayside while others moved on; Susan was meant for Oreius, anyone could see it, while Edmund was moving towards the princess of a nearby realm. Peter stood alone, as he always had, but she hoped for the best for him. She loved him so very dearly, you know.

Meanwhile, at Cair Paravel and many days later, it was Susan who received a message from Lucy, saying that she would be staying with Mr. Tumnus many more days yet and that yes, what she had hoped had indeed come to pass. Susan was overcome with happiness, and brought the good news to the High Kings of Narnia; when she told them, both Peter and Edmund, however begrudgingly, admitted that they had not known before Susan the true design of their younger sister's relationship with the faun.

"I suppose it is the first and last time I shall ever hear such an admission!" Susan teased.

Peter grinned lazily and sat in his throne; afterwards he said, "I would not gloat so readily, Susan. Yesterday Edmund and I received a request from Tumnus to _marry_ our dear Lucy."

Susan frowned, and Edmund laughed with glee.

"I do hope," said Edmund, "that you won't be insufferable because we knew of the marriage before you. Peter, of course, gave his consent; I rather think if Tumnus hurts her, we might feast upon him, like rack of lamb."

"Oh, Ed!" they cried out in unison.

Inside, though, all of the Pevensie children (and Mr. Tumnus too) knew that everything would somehow be put aright now. After all, such is the way of love. It mends, and heals; but much in the way of Narnia, you cannot go in search of it and be successful; love comes upon you when you least expect it.

_finis._


End file.
